sunset ii

I’m a morning person. It hasn’t always been that way. Maybe it started in college with early morning crew practice. 

I probably do more before 9am than most people do all day. I rarely sleep in. I never hit snooze.  

One of the things I take the greatest pleasure in is my morning bike commute to work. There is peace in the stillness. Sometimes, the only thing I can hear is my own breath. 

For as much as I enjoy the morning, I’ve never taken much interest in the sunrise. It just sort of happens while I am busy doing other things. 

On the other hand, sunset has a significant meaning to me. It began 2009 with a note from a friend (who has since passed away) that was written on a card with a picture of the sunset. 

It wasn’t just any sunset, it was a special sunset. It belonged to her friend’s father. 

Since then, I have never seen sunsets in the same way. I view them with purpose. There is sadness and beauty at the end of the day. The dichotomy suits me well.

no peace

Maybe it’s the fact that you live nearly 1700 miles away and I don’t have the financial resources to fly out for a visit as often as I’d like.

Or it could be the times when I can tell that mom is sad and the only thing I can do is give her a hug. I wish I could tell her that everything is going to be ok. 

There is the anxious moment when your name comes up on the caller ID and the room becomes quiet...and the silence that remains as I try to listen in on the conversation.

There is no peace in pain. There is no peace in worry or sadness.

The place where you are right now is much different than the one you were in four months ago, but the place where I am has not changed. No peace. No peace.

I want to watch the waning rays of light in silence. To leave the words behind with the setting of the sun. To wonder at the stars and the stillness of the night. That is where it feels effortless.